Yesterday was pretty interesting, wasn’t it? I mean, among all the other things that were going on in the world on September 27, 2017 we saw Puerto Rico continue to suffer, high-minded debate about the impact of the Jones Act on maritime commerce and relief efforts not to mention the economic impact on a U.S. Territory, the death of a Hugh Heffner, and, of course, a lawyer in Jackson, MS decided that it was time to sue “The Jews.”
Oh, did you miss that one?
Continue reading “Brud v. The Jews: A shver harts redt a sach.”
So this week, as this post is being typed and going live, there’s a conference full of lawyers going on in New Orleans. Called “Clio Cloud Conference,” it’s as if decades of governmental corruption, a goddamn hurricane, and having a dozen people bet they can tell you “where you got them shoes at” wasn’t enough punishment for choosing to live in the original city of perpetual sin (seriously, that place has all of the Big 7 available within easy walking distance from your hotel), an internet lawyer company decided attorneys should descend like locusts from the heavens on the fair city for a few days. Of course, this doesn’t include yours truly. Because yours truly can’t justify taking off a Monday and Tuesday to fly down to New Orleans, wear horribly loud Hawaiian shirts, and “network” with people like Keith from Associate’s Mind or any of the other legal luminaries that will be rampaging around the Quarter.
Instead, I’m in my office with a desk overflowing with files, bad fucking music playing in the background, and a cup of coffee as black and bitter as my goddamn soul is.
But I’m not bitter about the fact every other goddamn lawyer on the internet seems to be gathered in a cesspit of fun and depravity. Not at all. Why would I be bitter about that? Shit, I can even give you four good reasons why I totally don’t even fucking care that I’m not at the Clio Cloud Conference in New Orleans!
Continue reading “Four Reasons I’m Totally Okay With Not Being At Clio Con.”
Alright my little baby lawyers who have recently gotten their bar results and decided that makes them big boys now, it’s time for the regular edition of Boozy telling you how little you know about the generalities of being an attorney, nevermind how little you know about the practice of law itself! See, law school and the bar exam may teach you a lot of stuff about your ability to retain and regurgitate useless knowledge on command and the minimal competence needed to enter the practice of law, but what it doesn’t teach you is how to avoid looking like the world’s biggest asshole while doing it. There are plenty of young attorneys out there that make the rest of us shake our heads and wonder how many brain cells you destroyed during pledge week in undergrad, because by and large you’re all fucking morons with none of the skills needed to discern between a good idea and an amazingly bad idea.
Like what you should call yourself. Don’t lawyers get cool professional titles and shit that you can append to the end of your name in a desperate bid to validate the horrible life choices you’ve made and prove to your family that you’re important? Sure. Sure we do. Now let’s talk about why you shouldn’t be fucking using them, you pompous self-righteous prick.
Continue reading “Titles Matter: What Young Lawyers Shouldn’t Call Themselves”
So on Monday I spoke a little bit about why it’s important for lawyers to provide representation to people we may find completely devoid of morals. The take away from that is even if the person is someone you’d be happy to see locked away in a basement subsisting on bread, water, and the occasional print-out from the Stormfront website, everyone deserves to have good legal representation and we don’t get to draw the line at only the people we like or those whose views we always agree with. When we became lawyers, we became servants of justice, and sometimes justice, like your brother who lives in a basement subsisting on bread, water, and occasional printouts from the Stormfront website, has some really weird and detestable buddies you’d rather not associate with. Them’s the breaks, though, and we have to really accept it. While we have our personal morals and ethics, the idealized lawyer is professionally a true neutral.
I say “the idealized lawyer,” because at the end of the day we’re actually humans, not machines that just appear in court and “Beep Boop” our way through arguments, and we all have our limits. However, as I’ve talked about a couple times in the past, the limit is the lawyer’s issue, not the client’s issue, because it’s the point where our client is so amazingly, beyond the pale fucked up that we cannot represent them because we may subconsciously sabotage their otherwise meritorious claim. But if we can swallow our bile just long enough to make the argument, there are some steps a decent lawyer needs to take in handling the Reprehensible client.
So…you know, let’s talk about that and lose me some readers.
Continue reading “Representing the Reprehensible: Part 2 – Tips for Representing Nazis”
Let’s just be honest, the law does not attract the most savory of professionals. I mean, by and large, lawyers are learned professionals who exist to help other people with their legal problems, and do so as a manner of calling. However, we have a disproportionate number of fucking psychopaths lurking in our profession. I mean…a really fucking disproportionate number of psychopaths. As one attorney told a researcher:
“Deep inside me there’s a serial killer lurking somewhere. But I keep him amused with cocaine, Formula One, booty calls, and coruscating cross-examination.”
Isn’t that just comforting? Just those two sentences shatter the image of the local lawyer as being the stalwart Atticus Finch and makes them more of the Patrick Bateman type of person in your head, doesn’t it? But that’s ridiculous. One man does not a profession speak for. I mean, how many lawyers could really be off their goddamn rockers, right? It’s not like you’re going to go into your local attorney’s office and immediately get chased down the hallway by some 40-ish lawyer with a bad combover wearing a Brooks Brothers suit and wielding a motherfucking axe, right?
….Say, do you like Huey Lewis and the News?
Well let me put on this album and tell you about the blood on the hands of two particular members of our profession in this month’s Freaky Friday.
Ignore the newspapers taped to the floor. I don’t have a dog.
Continue reading “Freaky Friday: Lawyers Are Deadly”